N.A.A.C.P. Leader Tries To Build a Bridge to Youth

By DON TERRY,

Published: July 13, 1994

CHICAGO, July 12—
When the Rev. Benjamin F. Chavis Jr. talks about reaching out to the young and the disillusioned in black America, he is talking about people like 22-year-old Alturo Rhymes.

Mr. Chavis is executive director of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, which is holding its annual convention here this week, but as far as Mr. Rhymes and his buddies are concerned, the 85-year-old civil rights organization might as well be called the National Association for the Advancement of Middle-Class and Old Colored People.

"I don't see the N.A.A.C.P. as an organization for the masses of black people, and that's the problem," said Mr. Rhymes, who lives in a city housing project named after an early civil rights crusader, Ida B. Wells. "They're looking for that mainstream, middle-class person who doesn't need half as much help as the people I know. The N.A.A.C.P. is lost on the Yellow Brick Road somewhere."

For much of the last year, his first as executive director, Mr. Chavis has been trying to gather the young into the N.A.A.C.P. fold as part of an effort to broaden its membership across age, class and even ideological lines. He has crisscrossed the country, attending street gang peace conferences and marching for the preservation of historically black colleges.

He lived in a South-Central Los Angeles housing project for a couple of days, urged "gangsta" rappers to stop using sexist and violent lyrics, and shared a stage, and a hug, with Louis Farrakhan, the minister of the Nation of Islam, an organization that has a grip on the hearts and imaginations of many in the inner city. Reaching Out

Today, Mr. Chavis continued his campaign into the "hood." After Vice President Al Gore addressed the convention, and after a videotaped message of support from President Nelson Mandela of South Africa, Mr. Chavis visited a youth anti-drug program, No Dope Express, on Chicago's far South Side, far from the convention's posh downtown hotel and the scores of teen-aged N.A.A.C.P. members bound for college.

On Wednesday, Mr. Chavis is scheduled to travel even farther, at least symbolically. He is expected to visit the sprawling Cook County Jail complex, home to a small army of largely poor, young, black and Hispanic people.

"We're attempting to reconnect to the masses," Mr. Chavis said. "We're trying to remain on the front lines of the struggle."

His outreach policy is not without critics. They say he is ignoring the N.A.A.C.P.'s traditional middle-class base and its successful strategy of court action and political organizing.

"Reaching out is essential, and I applaud that," said Denton L. Watson, a former director of public relations for the organization. "Chavis means well, but he has to be careful. He cannot succeed by discarding the traditional way the N.A.A.C.P. functions." 'Delivered Real Benefits'

That sentiment was shared by Julian Bond, who was a young leader of the civil rights movement in the 1960's before becoming a state legislator in Georgia. "I hate to hear people say the N.A.A.C.P. needs a new direction," said Mr. Bond, who was a member of its national board for 10 years. "It has delivered real benefits to black America. I don't see any reason it should change."

Mr. Bond said the N.A.A.C.P had long had youth and college programs. Indeed, Mr. Chavis first joined when he was 12 years old.

The N.A.A.C.P. has also long been accused of being out of step with the times.

"The March on Washington was wonderful," said Donavan Wheatfall, 18, of Fort Worth, who came to the convention to participate in the N.A.A.C.P.'s academic and cultural competition for high school students. "But we have new problems -- drugs, poverty, hopelessness and crime. Just reciting the speeches and replaying the march won't do it. Dr. Chavis is leading us in the right direction."

Peggy Demon, 45, who brought her 16-year-old son, Ronald, from Florida to compete in the academic contest, sounded more cautious. "I like Ben Chavis, but I'm just watching to see what he does next," she said. Harsh Reality

Mr. Chavis says that membership has increased to 675,000 this year from about 490,000 last year and that most new members are young. But if he hopes to sign up people like Mr. Rhymes and his friends at the Wells housing project, he may have a lot of convincing to do.

The project occupies a gritty patch of earth, and more than 90 percent of its 5,660 residents get public assistance. Only a few manage to send their children to college or decent jobs.

On Monday night, as the N.A.A.C.P. was handing out medals for the top finishers in the academic competition, the field house at Wells was full of basketball players. Gil Walker, the recreation director for the city housing authority, was leaning against a wall when a 19-year-old walked in to say he could not play.

The teen-ager pulled up his shirt to show the bandage on his lean belly and the round hole on his back that had been sealed shut. He had been shot the other week, walking down the street to buy a hamburger.

"Anybody else get shot?" a young man asked him.

"Everybody outside did," the teen-ager replied. "He shot 17 times."

Mr. Walker said: "It's not like everybody is shocked by it. It's a fact of life around here. I think Chavis is on the right track. These are the guys who need help. I just hope they're not playing with the people. They need to hurry up and get here."